Rocks & Sentinels
Image by Colin-47
Beneath the whisper of salted air,
Rocks rise like sentinels, weathered and bare.
Wooden posts, their voices drowned,
Stand steadfast where the waves have crowned.
From brine and time their forms take hold,
Resilient in hues of grey and gold.
Emerging where the tide breaks free,
Echoing secrets of the timeless sea.